Chapter 9

Chapter 9

We stepped outside the gambling house.

"Manager Park."

The moment we came out, I called to him.

"What? Going to tell me another face-reading story?"

"What happens when a gambling house owner starts gambling himself?"

"Same thing that happens when a drug dealer starts using his own drugs. He's finished."

He explained it in a way anyone could understand.

"Then let me tell you what I saw in his face. Honestly, I was surprised too when you first looked at Madam Jo and said she was worth fifty billion won."

"Kang In-gwon has more debt than assets. And I think almost all of it is gambling debt."

"Kang In-gwon?"

Manager Park's eyes changed instantly.

"Why?"

"President Kang never told you his name."

That was my mistake.

"Oh, hahaha. When we entered the gambling house, I heard one gambler ask where President Kang was. Another asked where In-gwon was. The one calling him In-gwon looked like a gangster. And when the employees became nervous, he asked, 'Where's President In-gwon?' in a threatening tone. So I guessed."

"Really? You've got good ears too."

"I'm good at noticing things. And that gangster-looking man felt like someone who'd come to collect a gambling debt from Kang In-gwon."

"Could be. You really know how to read people. Strange."

"And I could see Wandering Fate around Kang In-gwon."

"Wandering Fate?"

Talking like a shaman was the easiest way to explain my supernatural ability.

"Yes. Wandering Fate is..."

Simply put, it meant a fate where someone couldn't settle in one place and was forced to wander.

The important part was the word forced.

"So?"

Even ordinary people knew roughly what Wandering Fate meant.

"I think he's going to gather whatever he owns and run overseas soon."

"Really?"

Probably the Philippines.

With more than seven thousand islands, it was an easy place to disappear.

"You know strangely specific things."

Manager Park stared at me.

"What?"

"Criminals who flee overseas often go to the Philippines."

Manager Park smirked after saying it.

Sounds like personal experience.

The way he said it didn't feel like something he'd merely heard from others.

It sounded like experience.

"Is that so?"

"That's the kind of place the Philippines is. Anyway, yes. So?"

"What?"

"You said President Kang might run away."

"He probably will. And I think the decisive moment has arrived. His gambling house is going to close for a few days. He'll probably say he's going overseas for a vacation. And when I looked behind him, I could almost see something golden. I think he's been stealing distribution money and converting it into gold."

"You should become a shaman if what you're saying is true."

"I don't think becoming a shaman is in my fate. Didn't you say it'll only take one week to confirm whether I'm really Grandma's grandson?"

"That's what they said. Hold on."

Manager Park stopped speaking.

Then he looked at one of his waiting employees.

The employee immediately ran over.

"Yes, Manager."

"Check on President Kang."

"Yes. I'll take care of it, Manager."

Manager Park's subordinate also seemed to be a former gangster.

His way of speaking gave it away.

"Don't lose track of him."

"Yes, understood."

Manager Park had apparently decided it was worth checking, just in case my words were true.

Then he looked at me.

"What about me?"

"What?"

"What do you see when you look at me?"

[Park Do-gyeong]

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Current Assets: 100 million won
(Apartment lease deposit)

· 

· 

Current Debt: 0 won

· 

· 

Repayment Ability: No outstanding payments / 100%

· 

· 

Monthly Repayable Amount: 25 million won
(Salary and performance bonuses)

· 

· 

Trustworthiness: 98%

· 

He's the right-hand man of a woman worth fifty billion won...

Yet he only had one hundred million in assets.

He made twenty-five million won every month.

Where was all that money going?

"You're practically broke. You earn a lot, so where does all your money go?"

Manager Park looked surprised for a moment.

Then he smirked.

"I have a lot of younger brothers to feed. Hahaha. Still, this is incredible. If you ever become a male shaman, I might have to follow you around."

"That won't happen."

Manager Park chuckled while looking at me.

The first day of the funeral.

Mourners slowly began to arrive.

Gamblers and cardsharps.

The cardsharps couldn't openly spread out the hwatu cards themselves.

So they sent gamblers in first.

Each person paid fifty thousand won in condolence money as an entrance fee.

They even bowed properly.

The entrance fees alone should make decent money.

Some smiled as they handed over their money.

Others looked strangely nervous.

I watched every reaction carefully.

Some glanced around the room.

Others quietly claimed places where the gambling would begin.

The games started almost immediately.

People gathered in corners, throwing hwatu cards while laughing and chatting.

To an outsider, it would've been difficult to tell whether this was a funeral hall or a gambling den.

There were around forty people.

That's already about two million won.

I calculated the amount in my head and smiled.

I was the only person wearing mourning clothes.

There weren't any actual mourners yet.

I continued with the plan.

To sell Bacchus drinks, I called over two local punks.

As the gambling grew larger, the room became increasingly chaotic.

I quietly called the two punks over and gave them instructions.

[Sell the Bacchus while you're walking around. Sell cigarettes too when the timing looks right.]

[How much should we charge?]

[Ten thousand won for Bacchus. Thirty thousand for cigarettes.]

[That much?]

[You'll be able to tell who's winning by their faces. Hang around the winners and they might tip you.]

The two punks exchanged glances.

Then they nodded.

One rolled up his sleeves and whispered,

[Should we start over there?]

I nodded.

They began weaving through the gambling tables with boxes of Bacchus.

Manager Park smirked when he saw me directing them around.

Honestly, selling Bacchus and cigarettes alone was already profitable.

People absorbed in gambling hated inconvenience.

If you put something right in front of them, they simply paid for it.

And when they won, they spent money freely.

But that wasn't the main source of income.

There was another reason I had created this funeral in the first place.

I fell into thought.

What if I lose the 3.4 million won on this?

This wasn't a real funeral.

It was staged.

If no genuine mourners came, I wouldn't even break even.

Time passed slowly.

Before I knew it, five hours had gone by.

No one except gamblers had entered.

I even started wondering whether Kim Dong-su had been a terrible corrections officer.

Seriously, nobody's coming.

I stared at the entrance like a shop clerk waiting for customers.

The hours dragged by.

Every time I heard movement near the door, I raised my head.

Every time, it was nothing.

In the quiet room, even the ticking of the clock seemed loud.

Did everyone forget about him?

I was starting to get nervous.

Then...

"This is the place, right?"

A rough voice sounded.

I looked up.

A man in a black suit entered.

Several more men dressed similarly followed behind him.

They were large.

Their expressions were intimidating.

Gangsters.

I quickly stood and studied them.

Their eyes.

Posture.

The way they scanned the room.

There was a tension unique to experienced gang members.

One man quickly looked around and spoke quietly to the person beside him.

I instinctively stepped back.

What is this?

"Yes, this is the place, Hyungnim."

"The road our Dong-woo hyung is taking looks way too lonely. Spread the word. Tell everyone to gather here. Bring more funeral wreaths too."

"Yes. I'll take care of it, Hyungnim."

The man in the black suit gestured.

His subordinates immediately scattered.

Soon, the special order of gangsters spread through the entire funeral hall.

Someone moved funeral wreaths.

Someone quietly took out a phone and started calling people.

Others stood nearby, watching the entrance and subtly pressuring the gamblers.

The atmosphere changed instantly.

I stood at the center of it.

After giving his men a few short instructions, the man in black walked toward me.

His steps never hesitated.

He didn't care about anyone else's gaze.

"You're Dong-woo hyung's son?"

A middle-aged man who looked like a gang boss stopped in front of me.

His face was expressionless.

His voice and eyes didn't waver in the slightest.

From the first impression alone, he felt like someone people naturally trusted and feared.

He was clearly used to pressuring others and making final decisions.

The men behind him naturally began organizing the area.

They cleared the path for mourners.

They quietly watched everything happening around them.

No one needed to give detailed orders.

They already understood their roles.

I quietly steadied my breathing and corrected my posture.

I tried to act like a proper chief mourner.

A brief silence passed.

I spoke first.

"Yes. Thank you for coming."

"Wait."

He pulled a thick envelope from his inner pocket and dropped it into the condolence money box.

Then he bowed twice.

One bow toward the deceased.

The other toward me.

As chief mourner, I had to receive it.

Then I bowed back.

I carefully matched the angle and timing.

For a moment, I tried not to forget the weight of what I was doing.

The form was perfect.

I had created a father who didn't exist.

Killed him.

And now I was bowing at his funeral.

As someone who had grown up in an orphanage, pretending to be a grieving son was almost ridiculous.

A stray thought crossed my mind.

But the man immediately spoke again.

Then he asked something completely unexpected.

"How are you going to live from now on?"

The question caught me off guard.

I briefly looked away.

Usually people wished the deceased peace.

But this man immediately asked how I intended to survive.

It wasn't empty sympathy.

It wasn't formal comfort.

He was seriously asking how I planned to live.

I hid my surprise and lightly nodded.

For a moment, I couldn't think of an answer.

He didn't wait.